Stuck in the Developer
by Cantabo
Summary: It's no secret that the Avengers have a hard time with things like "PR" and "responsibilities." To remedy this growing problem, Director Fury decides to hire Faith, who can't seem to figure out how to get her life together, yet is somehow supposed to capture the domestic lives of The Avengers for the world to see. Steve/OC, domestic!Avengers. Pure fluff!
1. Chapter 1

(Please note: This is set after Avengers 1. Coulson is alive, and I am disregarding all the sequels to Avengers. This multi-chapter work is pure fluff and indulgence, and I won't continue it through movies subsequent to Avengers 1.)

Please know that I don't own the Marvel franchise, just my original characters. Also, please note that any magazines mentioned in this fic are entirely fictional, but any photographers mentioned are real people and very wonderful, you should totally check out their work.)

*There are mentions of slightly irresponsible drinking throughout this fic. Please note that while food and water do help you metabolize alcohol better (and you should NEVER drink on an empty stomach), the only thing that can sober you up is time! Do not take the (even slightly) irresponsible actions of characters in this fic as responsible ways to drink or appropriate behaviors while drinking.*

Extended summary: It's no secret that the Avengers have a hard time with things like "PR" and "responsibilities." It's gotten to be such a liability that Fury has decided to outsource someone who can shed some light on the Avengers in a new, yet tasteful way. Enter the downtrodden photographer Faith, who can't seem to figure out how to get her life together, yet is somehow supposed to capture the domestic lives of The Avengers. Steve/OC, domestic!Avengers.

ALSO: **I pictured Faith as Alona Tal.**

* * *

 _Get a hold of yourself, Faith. You can do this_.

Okay, so maybe she can't. But she's damned well going to try anyway.

Her shoes smack the concrete on the sidewalk as she runs her hand through her hair, pulling her messy waves back into a loose bun with the rubber band on her wrist. It's out of the way now, making it easier for her to breathe. Breathing is important, she reminds herself.

She takes in a deep breath, pulling her shoulders back as she opens the door to _OVEREXPOSED magazine_ 's massive building.

Everything's fine lines, white leather, and clean chrome, sparkling in the sunlight coming through the glass wall that looks out onto the busy street. There's a seating area in one corner, and a large reception desk in the other corner.

Faith heads towards the desk, locking her eyes on the immaculate secretary, who looks up to her, clearly bored.

"Hello, welcome to _Overexposed._ How can I help you?" She asks in a monotone voice, inspecting the polish on her nails.

"Hi, my name is Faith Owens. I'm here to drop off a portfolio. Can you direct me to the right person to leave this with?" Faith asks, gripping her bag in her hands, where a folder of photos is safely tucked away.

"I can take those for you," She says, holding out one hand without looking up. Faith feels her stomach drop, because she knows where this is going.

"I'd really like to drop this off with someone, though," Faith says. The secretary rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers impatiently.

"Look, you can give it to me, or go home. No one has time for your amateur, back alley photography," she says, still not bothering to look up. Faith sighed and hands her the portfolio in her bag, knowing what was going to happen as soon as she left.

"Thank you, have a good day," the secretary says, and it's the clearest dismissal. Faith nods and leaves, pausing once she's outside the glass doors to watch through the glass as the secretary stuffs her portfolio into a trashcan under the desk.

* * *

Faith is moping. There's no other way to describe it. She's sitting at a bar in the middle of a Thursday afternoon, sipping whiskey and wondering if she should give up on civilized life and move to rural Scotland.

"I don't know about Scotland, the weather gets kind of finicky this time of year," A smooth voice says from next to her. Faith is confused for a few seconds before she makes the connection that she was thinking out loud, which she tends to do after two glasses of Fireball.

Faith turns to look, surprised to see a beautiful woman on the stool next to her. She's got red hair and a friendly smirk on her face. She's dressed in a leather jacket in jeans, somehow managing to rock it in a way Faith never could master. Faith looks down to her T-shirt with a hole in the neck and ratty canvas jacket, her jeans with a large hole in the knee, and feels suddenly self-conscious.

"I guess if I bought an insulated tent things would be okay," Faith shrugged, downing the rest of her whiskey in a single move, motioning to the bartender for another round.

"True, but might I suggest Iceland? It's winter there right now, so that's unfortunate, but you can see the aurora borealis, which makes up for losing a couple toes," The redhead says as she knocks back a shot of vodka in one swallow. The bartender sets down another finger of Fireball and a glass of water in front of Faith, and she gives him a smile of thanks. Bartenders are especially great when they look after their customers like that.

"Oh, god, don't remind me of beautiful things I need to photograph before I die," Faith says, drinking her third glass of whiskey a little slower than the first few. She's a pretty hard lightweight, and she usually tries to pace herself when she drinks, which is why she tends to favor this bar, where the bartender will cut you off before you get plastered. Buzzed is good, drunk is not.

"Oh, are you a photographer? That's pretty neat. What kind of subjects interest you?" The woman asks, sounding genuinely interested in something that a solid fifth of the New York City population does.

"I'm not paparazzi or anything, my interest is purely Fine Art. I kind of dabble in different types, but my favorite is street photography. Y'know, candids," Faith says. The woman nods her head, satisfied with Faith's answer.

"So, just wondering, but why are you drinking, frankly awful, cinnamon Whiskey in the middle of a Thursday afternoon?" She asks.

"Well, I handed in my portfolio to a magazine I've been reading religiously since I was twelve, and got to watch their secretary throw it in the trash. Also, I like Fireball," Faith says, and she debates damning the whole idea of pacing herself in favor of getting so drunk she can't remember what time zone she's in. She decides after a moment her liver is more important instead.

"That's rough," The woman says, and makes no move to apologize or offer some sort of uplifting positive side. It makes Faith like her more, the woman is funny in a subtle way, comforting by not being overbearing, and so far the first person to come up and talk to her in a solid month.

"Like sandpaper on concrete. It's so upsetting to see someone take all the work that you've been putting into the dark room for months and months, and literally throw it into a trash can," Faith says, and once again debates getting completely shit-faced. She once again holds out on the excuse of preserving the life span of her liver.

The woman nods, but says nothing. They drink in silence for a few minutes, and it's nice to not be pressed for conversation, to take time as it comes and breathe. Everything seems a little bit more okay when there's nice company and alcohol in her veins.

"I'm Natasha. Call me Nat," The woman says after a while, holding out her hand.

"Faith," She says, reaching out to shake her hand.

They share a friendly smile and continue to politely chat for a while, staying away from topics like work and personal things, and it's pleasant. It's nice in ways that Faith can't begin to comprehend. Friendship is something that has never come easy to her, she's usually too absent, too unaware, too clueless to do the whole 'friendship' thing properly.

But this is easier, somehow, because Nat is purposely driving the conversation, steering it to topics that are easy and mindless, so that it feels effortless but also uplifting. Faith is impressed at how long they talk, for almost two hours, and by the end of it, Faith knows so many mindless facts about Nat that she could write a book, make an art project with it all.

They talk until it's dark outside, and the bar begins to fill with people actually out to socialize. Faith looks around and seems to know their friendly chat has come to a close. She can't help but feel disappointed, this is the first conversation she's had in months that wasn't incredibly taxing or horrifically boring.

"Well, I have some things I need to take care of, but it was nice to meet you. How about we meet same time next week?" Nat asks as she takes her jacket and slides it on, smiling at Faith.

"Yeah, that actually sounds great," Faith says, smiling back at her. Socializing is healthy, she reminds herself. They smile at each other and say goodbye as they head separate ways when leaving the bar. Faith walks home happy and just barely buzzed, as Nat filled her with water and bar food after the fourth finger of Fireball.

Faith can't help but feel like she's done something right today, even though she's just been shot down by her dream magazine. Friends are important, she reminds herself. They're important.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the next few weeks, Nat and Faith hit it off. They're in the bar every Thursday afternoon religiously, keeping each other in good moods, light spirits, and pleasantly buzzed.

It helps, keeping conversations away from work, difficult pasts, and responsibilities. Even when Nat shows up with a black eye and a scratch on her cheek one day, Faith says nothing, figuring that Nat is here and walking fine, so obviously she can take care of herself. It's a two way street, and Nat is wonderfully silent when Faith shows up one afternoon with tear-streaked cheeks and red eyes, fresh from a panic attack and desperately in need of a drink. The silent understanding is enough to lift huge weights off of both their shoulders.

There is no doubt in Faith's mind that they come from two different worlds. Natasha is strong, and well-traveled, and has slipped into foreign languages multiple times. Faith is from a small town in Texas and can't remember the last time she did something spontaneous or wild. They're so different that they could be different ecosystems, and it works out better than either of them actually thought it would.

"So I have to wonder, why _OVEREXPOSED_?" Nat asks one day, almost two months after they've been getting together to pretend life doesn't exist. Faith considers her answer for a moment before responding.

"I first read it when I was twelve at a doctor's office. It just seemed amazing, the photographers that were in there. They broke boundaries and set records and showed parts of life that I had only dreamed of. I wanted to do that, be fearless and break boundaries and be great. God, I want to be great," Faith said with a rueful smile. She still feels it, buried somewhere inside of all the weathering her soul has taken. The desire to travel and see things and explore life in some untouched and beautiful way.

"Ah, I understand now. That feeling is so heady, sitting between your lungs like gold," Nat says, her eyes wistful and far away, and Faith knows that wherever Nat is, she's remembering something happy and long-forgotten. It makes Faith's chest ache in understanding and something that she suspects is some pure feeling of friendship.

* * *

 _Fury is a nightmare today_ , Clint texts Natasha one bleary Thursday morning, as she's drinking coffee and walking towards Maria's office. Groaning, Natasha pockets her phone, wondering what it could be this time.

 _It's all Tony's fault_ , is Clint's next text, which Natasha doesn't see until she's leaving her meeting with Maria and heading towards Fury's office for her meeting with him. Natasha rolls her eyes, turning her phone off this time. Whatever Stark has done, she wants to be as far away from it as possible. Seeing as she's meeting with Fury, though, the farthest she can get away from it is turning off her phone.

She enters Fury's office silently, perching on the arm of a chair as Fury stands in the corner, staring out the window. It's very unlike him to be so passive, especially if she's received a warning text from Clint.

They stay that way for several minutes, Fury being stoic and Natasha cleaning her nails with the knife that she keeps in her boot.

"We have been struggling for months with our public relations," Fury says after a while. Natasha puts her knife down, listening to the speech he has most likely been crafting in his head during the extended silence.

"It's come to my attention, rather obnoxiously and expensively, that the city does not want our help, or any of our affiliates, in rebuilding New York. They feel that we should be invisible, at least at the moment. We have been turned away in our offering to provide manual labor in rebuilding the streets of New York," Fury explains, turning away from the window to look at her, studying her reactions. He's expecting some sort of Switzerland answer from Natasha, who tries to ride the party line in every situation unless she's got a direct benefit. However, in this particular instance, she's got an idea forming in her head already. She schools her face into indifference, not sure if her idea is going to play out.

"What do you suggest we do?" Natasha asks him, raising an eyebrow.

"We need a way to humanize ourselves to the public. We need to show them that the Avengers aren't a damn sparkly police force, they're people, and they're heroes," Fury explains.

Natasha smiles at him, because it seems her idea is going to work out perfectly.

* * *

Hey guys! Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated! :)


	3. Chapter 3

_1401 42_ _nd_ _St. 21_ _st_ _floor. Interview 4:00. Bring your photography, something raw._

Faith stares down at her phone, confused at the message her screen is displaying. It's an unknown number, and the longer she stares the more confused she becomes. It sounds like someone is going to murder her until the last sentence, which makes her think it's some shady job offer.

Faith isn't stupid, she knows a creepy opportunity when one texts her. However, she also isn't rich, and living off a part time waitressing job is killing her savings account in a way that can only be viewed as mass-murder.

So she goes.

She wears her nice pair of slacks and a plain white dress shirt, and manages to dig out a pair of black boots that aren't covered in dirt or scuffs. She pulls her blonde hair into a neat bun and applies some mascara to make her brown eyes look less plain. She gets all the way to the subway before she realizes she didn't put on lipstick and digs in her bag for some chap stick the entire subway ride, because something is better than nothing.

In her bag is the first thing she ever printed that she actually cared about. A series centering around her younger brother and his decline in health three years ago. She didn't even look at them as she put them in a folder and headed out her door.

David was sixteen when he got sick, and Faith was just out of undergrad, bright eyed and happy to be alive. She dropped everything and drove two days straight back to Texas when she got the news. She held her brother for months as he got smaller and sicker, unable to even hold his head up at the very end, and when he was gone he took so much of Faith that she had to rebuild herself, and she still isn't fixed up, not quite right, like when someone pieces together a broken vase because it was sentimental, but there were chunks missing, so it became a conversation piece instead of something that had any sort of functional value.

Faith shakes herself from the emotional spiral, and pays more attention to where she is walking, and when she gets to the building, she's confused, because she has no idea what this building is. It's tall and glass and generic, in every sense of the word. If she hadn't had the address she would have walked right past it. There's not even a sign proclaiming what this business is, and that's even more confusing.

She walks in, because she's curious now, and curiosity killed the cat and whatnot. There are people everywhere, mostly in suits, but some are wearing expensive evening attire, some in casual clothing, and there is very little furniture for such a large, open space. It's like no one wanted to waste their time decorating when no one would use the furniture.

 _I can't believe you wore that shirt_ , her phone reads as soon as she steps inside the building.

She looks around confused, before texting back a hesitant _Nat?_

 _Who else, dummy,_ is what she gets in response. Faith smiles in relief, because if Nat is here she probably isn't going to get murdered. She was mildly worried that her kidney was going to be stolen and sold on Craig's List. It's a relief to know she'll get to keep her organs. It's confusing how Nat got her number, because Faith never gave it to her, however.

 _Relax. I'll be with you the whole time,_ her phone reads, and Faith looks around confused, and almost screams in surprise when Nat is standing next to her when she turns around.

"Jesus, Nat, you scared the shit out of me!" Faith says, holding a hand up to her heart as she takes a calming breath. Nat smiles and loops her arm through Faith's. She walks Faith up to an actual security checkpoint, where she flashes a badge hanging from a belt loop on her jeans at them, and they are the ushered around the side of security. Faith is so confused her head is about to implode.

"Sorry about the cryptic messages and general confusion, but we needed to keep you in the dark until you were here," Nat says as they head towards a wall of elevators.

"Nat, I'm so lost. What is this? It's like we're in some questionable government building that does scary things they write off as classified," Faith says. Nat smiles but says nothing, which is frustrating.

There's a logo of a minimalist eagle on the doors to the elevators, and in a circle surrounding the eagle are the words _Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division_. That sounds so familiar it gives her a small headache in the back of her head, and she finally places it when the doors open and they both step inside. Nat hits the button for the 21st floor.

"Oh my god! Shield is that branch of government that works with the Avengers! I know things!" Faith finally says, proud of herself for figuring it out. Nat smiles at her and nods.

"I'm impressed, I thought I was going to have to lay it all out with a diagram for you. That's one less thing we have to cover," Nat says, and Faith is back to being confused as hell. Nat seems to realize this, because her smile softens into the looks they share in the bar.

"I know, this is confusing, but I can't be the one to explain this to you," Nat says, and Faith nods, because she trusts Nat and is fairly certain she isn't going to be murdered anymore.

The stand in silence for the rest of the ride, and when they exit the elevators, they're standing in a hallway that is fairly narrow, widening only to fit a secretary's desk in front of a glass door. The secretary nods at them as they walk by her, and then Nat is opening the door.

Inside the room there is an office, filled with neutral toned furniture and clean, black accents. It's an open space, neutral in every sense of the words, which makes Faith assume that many arguments happen in here.

There is a man at the desk, writing on a stack of pages. He's definitely the most interesting man that Faith has ever seen. He's large and bald, wearing what looks like a leather trench coat, although Faith can't be sure because of the desk. He has an eyepatch over one eye and she's already slightly terrified of him.

"Miss Owens, it's nice to meet you. Have a seat," The man says, gesturing for her to sit in a chair in front of his desk. She does, and Nat takes the seat next to her. Faith feels better knowing that Nat is here with her, if she's being honest.

"Of course. I'm just a little confused as to why I'm here," Faith says, because she can't help it. The secrecy is interesting and she's never been too good at filtering herself.

"I suppose I'd be concerned if you weren't," The man says, clicking his pen and looking up at her. His face is weathered from age and life, and it gives him a rough look, like he's been eroded into who he is.

"You're currently in Shield headquarters, because Agent Romanov has informed me that we are in need of your services," The man says.

"My services?" Faith asks, "I'm sorry, but I'm confused. Are you a pimp?"

Nat's smile is something she can see even out of the corner of her eye. The man's frown is wiped away in a bark of laughter, and suddenly he's a lot less terrifying. Faith guesses he's secretly a softie underneath all the leather.

"No, I am not a pimp. I am, however, Nick Fury, the Director of Shield," He says offering his hand to shake. She accepts the gesture, shaking his hand weakly as she stares at him in disbelief.

"I don't understand why I'm here though, I'm of no use to you. I'm nobody. I coasted through school and can't keep a job for more than a few months," She says.

"You are exactly who we are looking for, Miss Owens. We _need_ nobody," Director Fury says, smiling at her in a way that is somehow both comforting and terrifying. She suspects he practices his smile in the mirror at night.

"Oh-kay," She says, hoping he'll actually elaborate.

"You must remember the Battle of New York. It was devastating for much of the city, and there is just now starting to be a real headway in the rebuilding process. We'd like to use Shield time and resources to help with the process, but we've been locked out by the city officials. The general opinion about the Avengers is not good, and we can't get in to help with the city hating them so much," Fury explains.

That makes sense. Faith hadn't been in New York during the battle, but at her parent's house back in Texas. She came home weeks later, thankfully to an intact apartment, but to a broken city.

"I understand. But where do I come into play?" Faith asks.

"You are the person who is going to fix this," Fury says simply, like that answers all of her questions.

"What?" Faith asks, because _what?_

"We need someone who can show the Avengers in their daily lives, being people, being human, being normal. We need to show the public who they are, not what they do. They're shrouded in secrecy, and they're so secluded that people don't know the first thing about them. You're going to help fix this," He says, and _what?_

"How am I supposed to do this?" Faith asks, reaching into her bag to pull out her folder, because no one's asked for it yet and he should at least see her work before he gives her a questionable job. Nat takes it gently out of her hand to look through it as Fury speaks again.

"Capture them in their everyday lives, show the public why they're heroes," And he just keeps saying these things like they make sense, but they don't. Nat hands the folder to Fury as Faith finally asks all her questions.

"I'm just supposed to do this by myself? Why me? How did you even find me?"

"We've been drinking together for months, I'm surprised you never recognized me," Nat says, and Faith turns to look at her, because that's cryptic and Faith isn't good with cryptic. But suddenly everything clicks in one clarifying second and things all make sense. The redheaded Avenger who wears too much leather and has been on the news for months was the same person she has been drinking with.

"Nat! I- _Nat!_ How come you didn't tell me?" Faith says, turning in her chair to look at Nat who shrugs, and barrels on.

"You and I worked well not telling each other details. It was nice. Why ruin a good thing? We found you because you're not hard to find. Faith Nevaeh Owens, age 27, born on March 19th. Lives at 384 Graceland St., apartment 15. You're 5'4 with blonde hair and brown eyes, 108 lbs. You went to school in Texas until your brother passed away, and then you moved out here three years ago. Since then you've been floating in and out of jobs to fund your passion for photography," Nat says, relaying her entire life back to her like it's no big deal.

" _Nat!_ " Faith says, shocked and a little impressed.

"Faith, you're perfect for this job," Nat reasons. "You've been secretly winning over an Avenger for months, and if I genuinely like your company, so will the rest of the team. I know you're not out for some sketchy angle, because you make your money honestly and have no desire to photograph people simply because they're famous. You're actually good at what you do, and you're probably the only photographer Shield will trust enough to let inside the tower," Nat explains.

"Miss Owens, these are very good," Fury says, closing the folder and handing them back to her. She takes them with a shy smile and puts them back in her bag, where she doesn't have to think about them. "If you can show the team with that much emotion, then I have no doubts you'll be stunning at this."

"I'm sorry, this is all just kind of overwhelming. I thought you were some kind of bouncer at a club or something up until about twenty minutes ago," Faith says to Nat, who laughs at that. Fury raises an eyebrow at the both of them.

"I must mention some of the amenities that come with this offer. You'll be offered access to a team of superheroes in their entirety, with the exception of missions, mission details, and any confidential meetings. We will provide you with room and board in their tower, and you will be given an expense account for any costs that may come up. You will be a Shield employee, and as such you'll be entitled to benefits such as medical, dental, and vision insurance as well as a 401K. It's a very generous offer," Fury says, and he leans forward in his seat, resting his chin on his hands.

Faith looks from Fury, who is simply staring at her, to Nat, who is smiling gently at her. They're both waiting for her to say yes, and it seems like they have no doubt in their mind that her answer will be a yes. It's a really tempting offer, being able to photograph people while getting paid, and actually having medical insurance would be wonderful, so that the next time she sprains her ankle she doesn't have to rely on the Turkish nurse two doors down who knows a microscopic amount of English. She knows in the moment she thinks about what her life is going to look like if she doesn't accept that she's made up her mind.

"Okay, I accept, you've got yourself a Faith," She said, and shakes Fury's hand to seal the deal.

* * *

Feedback is always welcomed! Finally, we're getting into the microscopic amount of plot in this story, haha.


	4. Chapter 4

"I have to fill you in on some things before I can, in good conscience, let you step into that tower," Nat says, folding Faith's sheets and setting them in the box marked _LINENS_. Nat was kind enough to offer to help her pack up.

It feels like Faith's life has turned around completely in a week.

She's been up at Shield every day the past week, signing contracts and being sworn to secrecy so many times she's lost count. Faith is a little bit bummed she can't even tell her parents about getting a nice, stable, adult job, but she figures sacrifices must be made, and they're much safer when they're in the dark.

Faith was given a detailed, yet short, list of her emergency contacts from now on, which contained names of people she doesn't know, with the exception of Nat. it consisted of the names and complete, overly comprehensive contact information of Nat, Phil Coulson, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts, Darcy Lewis, and Maria Hill.

"Like?" Faith prompts, making a pile of clothes she wants to move and clothes she is going to drop off at Goodwill.

"You're going to be working with the team's full time PR manager, Darcy. But don't worry, I think you'll really like her," Nat adds when she sees the deer in the headlights look Faith has. "You're allowed everywhere except Bruce's room, for obvious reasons, and of course any confidential Shield meetings. You want to be very careful about going into Tony's workshop, for reasons that will become obvious. You can't go on missions with any of us, because you aren't an agent, so if we're ever called out as a team you'll be with Darcy working on damage control. We're going to teach you self-defense, but don't worry, Steve is a good teacher, and he'll take to you like a fish to water," Nat says, sorting her shoes into two piles. She takes the larger pile of shoes that are worn and have seen better days, and dumps them in the _TRASH_ box.

"Hey, those are my shoes!" Faith says, digging out her brother's boots from that box. Nat doesn't stop her, probably because she only grabs the one pair. David's boots go with her, and Nat doesn't comment.

"You can't look homeless when you're working. It's true you don't have a uniform, but you _do_ have an expense account. Darcy and I are taking you shopping once you're moved in," Nat says, throwing a jacket that Faith didn't even know she owned into the Goodwill box. Faith decides that's fair, and they both continue to sort all her clothes, moving into the kitchen to pack everything up into boxes to be moved into storage.

Faith isn't sure how long she'll be living in the tower, but she knows it's not permanent, and she doesn't want to sell all her possessions just because she'll be there a while. Nat gave her the idea of putting her furniture and things that won't be needed like kitchen ware and decorations into storage.

Her homemade dark room is another story. It has to be disassembled strategically, the chemicals disposed of properly and safely, and all her equipment accounted for and packed away in appropriate, light safe containers. Her photography supplies will be going with her, but her dark room equipment will be heading to a secure storage unit upstate, because her developer is vintage and she refuses to let it rot in a moist, rusty storage room in the city somewhere.

Nat told her earlier this week that there was a dark room would available at the tower, and she should move her equipment to a weather-safe, air-conditioned storage place.

They moved the boxes around, leaving labels for where each box was headed. A fair amount were going to Goodwill, three or four headed to the tower, while the rest were split between a storage unit in Manhattan and the weather-proof one upstate in Albany.

"Thanks for helping me move," Faith says, leaning her head onto Nat's shoulder in the car the next morning. Nat offered to let Faith bunk with her for the next few days until her room was ready at the tower.

"Of course, what are friends for?" Nat asks, casually, because they're friends, and Faith is suddenly so glad they're friends.

"Best friends," She says quietly.

"The best," Nat replies back, so soft it's almost unheard.

* * *

"You are precious! I love you," Darcy declares the second Faith introduces herself, and promptly kisses her directly on the mouth. The man, Happy, who drove them from Faith's apartment to the tower inhales quickly and Nat outright laughs. It's a quick gesture, more a joke than anything, Faith can see in Darcy's shit-eating grin as she pulls away.

Faith laughs again shoves gently at her shoulder, quietly muttering a friendly, "Bitch."

"Okay, now I really love you. I am Darcy Lewis, and we are best friends now," Darcy says, grabbing Faith and Nat's arms to lead them into the tower. Faith turns to see Happy pulling her bags out of the car, and calls out a thanks to him, to which he looks up at her and smiles.

"This is amazing, there totally aren't enough women here! It's been such a sausage fest lately I've been gagging," Darcy cries as the elevator doors open and they are whisked inside.

She talks the entire way up, about where they're going shopping later today and where they'll have dinner tonight and if they should watch a movie, and by the time they've come to a stop, Darcy has already finalized their plans for shopping in an hour, then dinner, then a movie marathon of anything concerning Heath Ledger.

Faith finds herself liking Darcy more and more every second, because she's overwhelming in the most amazing way. She doesn't have time to feel nervous or shy at being in a new place because she can't focus on anything aside from the woman leading them this way and that.

"Darcy, slow down. She just got here," Nat says, gently removing her hand from Faith's wrist, and leading them both to the couch.

They're in a living room, with an elegant fireplace against one wall, a large television on top of it. The wall that the elevator is on is made entirely of brick, and it goes well with the neutrally painted walls. The L shaped couch is bright red, which should be overbearing but works well as an accent piece in the room. Towards the other side of the room is a bar and there's a kitchen on the far wall, a dining table taking up the corner that is covered in windows. It's very cozy and Faith suspects this is a common area for the team to hang out.

Nat sits down on the couch, putting Faith in between her and Darcy, and clicks on the television.

"So, Faith, I thought you and I could talk a little bit about what you have in mind for helping with the whole PR nightmare that is this team," Darcy says as she pulls her long wavy hair into a bun. Faith pulls her bag off her shoulder and takes out a small sketchbook where she's been writing down ideas.

"Well, I thought that the biggest thing we could do is get them out there more. Like social media. We'd have to filter everything that was put out there, but maybe giving the team an Instagram and Facebook would be a good way to show the team in a different light. We could also do video diaries from the team, where we give each team member a video camera and let them record what they want to about their daily lives. Then you and I could sift through the crap and put something together that would be worth putting on the internet for the public to see," Faith said, looking at Darcy who was beaming at her.

"You are a gem, exactly who I need. That's a wonderful idea, especially the video diaries. Do you have experience with video editing?" Darcy asks.

"Mostly in college, but I occasionally freelance from time to time for extra cash, so I know what I'm doing," Faith says, smiling at her.

"Awesome! I'm okay at it, more from a production angle than anything, so if you know the technical stuff we're going to be unstoppable," Darcy declared.

"I hope so," Faith says, smiling at her.

"Jarvis, what can we see about those video cameras? We'll want something small and hard to break. Think of it as finding a camera that's Thor-proof," Darcy says to no one in particular.

"Of course, Miss Lewis, I've ordered six different models for you and Miss Owens to try out, they should be here by 8:17 p.m. tonight," A disembodied, British, voice says.

"What the _fuck_ ," Faith says, twisting around so fast that she falls off the couch entirely. Darcy bursts into laughter while Nat rolls her eyes and helps Faith up.

"My apologies, Miss Owens, I did not properly introduce myself. I am Jarvis, Master Stark's AI. I am designed to run the house and help with anything and everything I can. I must inform you that your packages were picked up by the movers twenty three minutes ago and the boxes scheduled to be delivered here will arrive tomorrow morning," Jarvis says, and Faith smiles in wonder.

"AI?" She asks Nat.

"Artificial Intelligence," Nat explains.

"Wow, that's amazing. Jarvis, does Tony ever tell you that you're amazing?" Faith asks.

"Unfortunately, Sir is often quite preoccupied with burning off his eyebrows," Jarvis says, and it's so sarcastic Faith can't help but laugh with Darcy.

"Hey! I resent that! My eyebrows are both intact and glorious," A male voice says from the elevators. Faith turns to see Tony Stark stepping off the elevators, covered in grease and wearing a Black Sabbath shirt that has seen better days. He stops on his way to the bar in the corner, pointing at Faith.

"You're new. I didn't order you," Tony says, eyebrows drawn together in confusion as he mixes himself a drink.

"Don't be an ass, Tony. This is Faith, she's here to help with PR. Don't touch her," Nat says, levelling Tony with a look that has him taking a step back, raising his hands.

"I am happily in a monogamous relationship, Agent Romanov. But hello, I'm Tony Stark. You've probably heard of me," He says, walking forward and holding his hand out to her.

She shakes it, smiles, and replies with, "Faith Owens. I saw your bare ass on last month's _Gossip_."

"Hey! That was some stupid, bullshit, publicity stunt look-alike, not my ass at all," Tony says, bristling.

"Okay, if you say so," Faith says, smiling at him. He looks at her, sizing her up. She kind of looks like crap right now, he hair a mess and jeans ripped, wearing one of her brother's old shirts and a pair of boots that used to be black but are now a shade of gray.

"I like you," He declares, walking back to the elevator with his drink in hand, smiling at her.

"And on that note, I think I'd rather get the shopping over with," Faith declares, pushing herself up off the couch.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for the kind words and favorites. I just wanted to let you know that updates are going to slow down a little bit from here, it shouldn't be much, but the pacing will be better for me in terms of writing more.


	5. Chapter 5

"White is your color, it's decided. It makes your skin glow, and it goes with everything," Darcy decides two hours in, handing Faith three white tops that all look identical. "Try those on, and then tell me which fits best."

Faith does as she is told, and then steps out of the dressing room to show Darcy the one that first best. Darcy looks at her for a minute before nodding. "That's a yes. I think we've gotten you enough shirts, let's move to dresses," She says, handing Faith a stack of dresses as thick as the length of her arm.

It takes a solid thirty minutes to try all the dresses on, but Faith finally decides on five she likes, three white ones, a long burgundy one, and a black dress that Nat declares is a staple.

They pick out too many pairs of pants, thankfully mainly jeans, and a few slacks for meetings. They get her three pencil skirts, a charcoal, brown, and black one.

Darcy insists on also getting many sweaters, coats, jackets, scarves, socks, and shoes. Faith is so overwhelmed and exhausted by the end of the day that she can barely do anything but nod as Nat herds her into the car.

"Okay, well I'm exhausted, so what do you say we pick up some wings and beer and watch us some Heath Ledger," Nat says when they're all seated in the car. Happy nods and heads back towards the tower.

"Thank you for driving us," Faith calls out to him. He waves his hand in acknowledgment and replies back with an, "of course, ma'am."

"I used to drive for a living, so I always liked it when people said thanks," Faith said to him, and he laughed in response.

"Yeah, I understand, thanks is always nice to hear, no matter what," He says, and Faith smiles, because that's true.

* * *

Faith wakes up the next morning on the couch, her head on Natasha's ass and Darcy sprawled out next to her. She's mashed into the back on the couch, one arm curled up to her chest and the other one smashed underneath her.

Faith groans, confused and unhappy to be awake. Morning and Faith are old enemies that have yet to figure out how to get along. She groggily lifts her arm up from where it's tucked against her chest to find a grip on the back of the couch, lifting the top half of her up enough to keep her awake. She needs to unpack today, and she can't do that if she's passed out on the couch.

She blinks, her vision blurring, and eventually manages to lift herself over the back of the couch to topple onto the floor in an unglorified heap. She lays there for a minute, making sad noises into the plush carpeting before rolling on her back to starfish on the floor. She lays there, with her eyes closed, until she feels that prickling on the back of her neck that means someone is watching her.

She opens her eyes slowly and immediately jumps, sliding to push herself up against the back of the couch as the guy looks down at her, smiling. He's all blue eyes and blonde hair as he looks down at her. His eyes are bright and he's wearing athletic clothes, like it isn't some ungodly time in the morning.

"Warn a girl!" She says, putting a hand over her heart. The guy gives a chuckle and offers her a hand to help her up. She takes it and is pulled up a little harder than she anticipated, and she crashes into his chest. His arm wraps around her shoulder to keep her from falling down, and she looks up at him, mesmerized by the way his entire face is actually perfectly proportionate.

"Um," She says intelligently, and he looks down at her, smiling like he's laughing at her inside as he helps her stand up straight.

Faith is very aware that she's wearing a thin, white, long sleeve henley and a pair of short blue pajama shorts, with most of her legs showing. She was fine when it was just Nat and Darcy, but she's a little self conscious now that someone else is seeing her in her jammies.

"You look like you could use some coffee," He says, and Faith groans and nods, pushing her wavy hair over her head.

He looks back at her as he walks to the small kitchen in the room, pouring already made coffee into a mug he grabs from a shelf.

"Cream and sugar?" He asks, turning to watch her struggle onto the barstool. It's an amusing sight, she's sure, because the stool is kind of high for her, and she's not really awake enough to put the proper effort into climbing up like a lady.

"Yes, please," She mumbles once she's gotten situated on the barstool. She slumps over onto the counter, pillowing her head on her arms as she debates whether sleeping in this position would give her neck pains.

"Here you go, strange lady who fell off the couch," The man says as he hands her a mug of coffee. She smiles sleepily as she takes a rather large sip.

"I'm Faith. Which one are you? I've only met Nat, Darcy, and the loud one," She says, waving her hands around from the counter she's seated at. He leans against the opposite counter, nursing a bottle of water she didn't really notice him get.

"I'm Steve, it's nice to meet you," He says, smiling at her as he takes a sip of his water. She smiles back and takes another huge drink from her coffee, feeling a little more human.

"So, is it safe to ask why you're here? We don't usually have new people on our couch," Steve says.

"I'm here because you guys suck at people. Which is ironic, because I also suck at people. Fury seemed to miss that part, though," She says, downing the rest of her coffee and rubbing her eyes. She's starting to wake up, and notices then that Steve is very attractive, and she is also very not decent.

Steve lets out a bark of a laugh, then looks at her with wide eyes, like it's surprising that he would laugh. He gives her this look that she should probably analyze but isn't really awake enough to.

"Well, you can't be much worse than us, so I'm sure you'll do fine. Are you helping out Darcy?" He asks, gesturing towards the couch where the girl in question is in a pile.

"Yeah, we're going to make you internet famous," She says, laughing. Steve smiles along, too, so she counts it as a win.

"I'm sorry I'm not really decent, I wasn't expecting anyone to see my morning madness," She says. Why would she point that out? What the hell, Faith?

"Believe me, after having to wake up Tony, I can assure you that it's not a big deal," Steve says, smiling shyly. This guy is adorable, all smiles and apple pie. It makes Faith want to hug him.

"Well, I'm going to take a shower, because Darcy dragged me all over the city last night. I'll see you later," Faith says as she hops off the barstool and heads towards the elevators, pushing the button.

"See you," Steve says from the kitchen.

* * *

Well, here's the next minuscule amount of plot in this story. Thanks for the kind feedback, everyone! It means a lot! :)


	6. Chapter 6

Faith meets two more of the Avengers that night, at dinner. According to Nat the only people she has left to meet are Thor, who is in Asgard, Phil Coulson, and Tony's girlfriend and CEO, Pepper Potts.

Dr. Banner is very reserved but has a streak of humor in him that Faith finds wonderful. He has salt and pepper hair and worry lines on his forehead, and Faith feels like he needs a hug and a relaxing night in the bathtub. She debates buying him lavender candles, and then decides that it's a good idea and she's going to order them later that night.

Clint, on the other hand, is a _riot._ Faith takes to him immediately, both of them cracking smart-ass jokes at each other as they reminisce about growing up in farming states. Clint barks out a laugh when Faith brings up the fact that if you're tall enough, you can actually see the curvature of the earth, and they clink their beers together in agreement.

The dinner is surprisingly laid back and delicious, as apparently it was Bruce's night to cook, and he opted for a native dish from India that has Faith going back for thirds. Everyone Faith has met, aside from Darcy, is at the table, and it gives a nice feeling of family and camaraderie.

Tony and Bruce are intensely discussing something to do with hydraulics that goes directly over Faith's head. They're good naturedly insulting each other and Tony occasionally pokes Bruce's hand gently with his fork. Steve, Happy, and Nat are engaged in a deep conversation about which form of martial arts creates the least stress on the joints. It would be interesting if Faith could follow it, but they all devolve into happily bickering in what sounds like Italian, so Faith decides to leave them be. Darcy is absent, currently out on a date with someone she referred to as her 'Sugar Daddy.'

Her and Clint are bonding in what can only be considered bro time, and it's so nice. Faith's chest is aching at the feeling of home that they have in this room. It's something she has missed, hasn't felt in years, since David was alive and healthy, raving about baseball and basketball and any sport he could.

"So, Faith, tell us about yourself," Bruce prompts towards the end of the meal, when conversation has wound down and everyone is more enjoying the silence.

"Not much to tell. What do you guys want to know?" She asks, setting her fork down on her plate and moving to sit indian style on the chair.

"Well, why did you move to the city?" Bruce asks, because normally it's a good question. Everyone moves to the city for some reason, usually to pursue a dream or get a job or be a star.

Faith, however, Faith moved here to hide. She moved here because being in the same town as her family became unbearable. It was too much getting the pitying looks because everyone knew her brother had died, everyone knew her name and her entire life. She couldn't grieve properly, so she ran, and she ran, and she ended up in New York City with her camera bag and a backpack and never looked back. It's easier to talk to her parents and not be anywhere nearby, anyways.

"I uh, I just kind of ended up here," Faith says as she looks down. There's a silence over the table, and Faith is suddenly so uncomfortable that she can't breathe, has to struggle to keep herself breathing gently, keep her pulse down, keep herself calm and relaxed because she can't break down now, that's not an option.

"I understand that," Bruce says after a moment of staring at her, "One time I ended up in Berlin for two months, best local life there, everyone's so happy and lively," He says, sensing that her past is something she doesn't want to bring up.

"One time I ended up tied to a flagpole, naked, with Rhodey in college," Tony says, taking a large gulp of his drink before launching into that story, thankfully turning the attention away from Faith and to a funny story from Tony's wild youth. It's wildly hilarious and raunchy, and has everyone cracking up and shouting at Tony in amusement as he begins to add hand gestures along with his story.

Things are easy again, but Faith happens to catch the eye of Steve from across the table and gets the sense that maybe things aren't as easy as she thought they were.

* * *

Hey guys, sorry this is a short chapter. Things have been stressful lately (i got into a car accident and have been wallowing in self pity). Next update out in 3 or 4 days!


	7. Chapter 7

Faith's room is more of an apartment, she decides the next morning, when Tony and Darcy finally take her to her room. Her boxes have been moved from Nat's place, where she slept on the couch last night, and are sitting in a pile in the middle of her living room. The couch, armchair, coffee table, and electronics are in a pile in the middle of the living room, covered in plastic.

The room is a combination of a large living room and a medium sized kitchen with a breakfast bar built into it. In the corner there were several ottomans, a few chairs, and a table against the windows, making it look like a window seat but also doubling it as a dining table. There's a small hallway with three doors in it, one leading to the bathroom and the other two being bedrooms. The one at the end of the hall has a special lightsafe revolving door to prevent light from entering, and Faith is sure that her darkroom lies behind it. The one thing that she has been really looking forward to is setting her dark room up.

"This is absolutely wonderful, Tony. Thank you, I don't even know how to tell you thank you enough," Faith says, smiling at the room. Everything is perfect, already miles nicer than her old apartment. Tony is smiling and Darcy is typing rapidly on her phone.

"Of course, you're helping us out, so I'm helping you out," Tony says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder in a friendly hug. She returns it, and tells him thank you again as he leaves.

"Okay, so I want you to make a list of things you need to be able to live here as soon as possible, and Jarvis will express order them. Things like pots and pans and silverware will be here tomorrow, so until then you can use the kitchen in the lounge. I'm going to leave you to get unpacked, because I have to go yell at a reporter," Darcy says, patting her shoulder as she goes.

Left alone, Faith walks around her apartment, sketchbook in hand, and takes in the wood flooring that seems to be even through the entire apartment. She won't have to do too much in the way of painting, which is nice. She decides to keep the walls white in the living room and kitchen, because anything goes with white, and it makes everything look cleaner. In her bedroom she decides to paint it a foggy shade of gray, because it will look good with her yellow pillows and the dark brown bed frame already in the room. The bathroom is going to be a lighter shade of gray to work with the dark brown furniture that seems to be a theme in the bedroom and bathroom. Faith likes that the wood is different from the kitchen, which is all white, as it makes the two rooms feel cosier and more like home.

Faith jots down notes in her sketchbook, making sure she notes what color to get for things like her sheets, towels, and rugs. It shouldn't take her more than a few hours to get the paint and all the things she needs. She decides to pick them up herself instead of sending Darcy a list, because she has nothing else to do and doesn't want to burden Darcy.

* * *

Four exhausting hours later and she's opening the door to her place, tired and dead to the world. So many, many colors. Everything is overwhelming and Faith can feel her eyelids drooping even as she flops down onto her mattress in the bedroom, which still has the plastic wrap on it, and promptly passes out.

She's awakened some time later with a gentle shake to her ankle. She lifts her head up, confused.

"What?" She asks, twisting around to see Steve, in jeans and a t-shirt, smiling softly at her, with a gun in his hand. She jumps up at the sight of the gun, pulling into herself. He looks at her, confused, until he notices the gun in his hands, and mumbles an apology shyly.

"Your door was open, I was just making sure you were okay," Steve says, putting the safety on and tucking it into his waistband. She smiles, because that's nice of him, even though guns are something that will always freak her out.

"Thanks, that's nice of you," Faith says, pulling her hair over to one shoulder as she slides off the bed to stand up.

"I noticed the pile of furniture in your living room. Do you need some help moving it around?" Steve asks, like he genuinely wants to spend his afternoon helping her move furniture around her apartment. She raises her eyebrows at him, and he shrugs.

"You don't have to, I know you're really busy," She says.

"No, it's not a problem. I already got my meetings done and had a training session with Clint and Tony today, and the team doesn't have plans tonight, so I'm free if you need a hand," He says.

Faith considers this. She's pretty small, but not delicate by any means, and while she isn't weak, moving her couch around alone sounds kind of dull. Besides, Steve isn't bad looking at all, and watching him move some furniture around is an extremely tempting offer.

"Well, okay, but only if you stay for dinner. I can make pasta, and pasta, and sometimes pasta, and when I'm feeling really adventurous, pasta and garlic bread," She says, and Steve throws his head back in a laugh. She's smiling as she leads him to the living room, where the pile seems even bigger than it did when she got home earlier. She stops dead and hears Steve do so behind her. She can tell he's on alert like something is wrong, but Faith is more frustrated than anything.

"Jarvis, did this pile grow?" Faith asks. Steve exhales a breath and leans his shoulder against the wall, shaking his head as he silently laughs at Faith.

"I am afraid so, Miss Owens. The movers dropped off the items you requested from storage and the items that you purchased earlier today were delivered about twenty minutes ago. It is a possibility that the delivery men did not close the door all the way when they departed. I have taken the liberty of sending their supervisor a letter to make sure they do so from now on," Jarvis says. Faith is impressed with how thorough he is, able to do exactly what she would have done and still be ten steps ahead of her. It's relaxing.

"Thank you Jarvis, I really appreciate you," Faith says, because she does, and she tries to give out compliments as often as she can.

"Of course Miss Owens. Please let me know if I can be of any further service at any time," Jarvis says. Faith nods and walks up to the pile to look at it.

"It's taller than me," she pouts, because she can't see what's on the top of the pile, and that means it's too tall and she might actually need Steve's help after all.

"It is, but it's okay, because short is the newest trend," Steve tells her, with a sad smile on his face. She turns to look at him, and noticed that he's hunching his shoulders and looks older than he is, suddenly.

"Thanks," She says to him with a small smile, and he returns it.

"Well, are you going to paint?" Steve asks, gesturing the to the buckets of paint and large stack of plastic tarps that are sitting on the floor. She debate it, but decides she'd rather wait a few days on painting and instead make the apartment at least livable.

"Probably not today, that's for the bedroom and bathroom anyway, so it can wait a few days. I'd rather be able to get rid of this pile," She says, gesturing at it.

"Okay, Steve says, already lifting boxes off the top to sort out the contents in them.

"Do you mind if I change into something that moves easier? I can't do heavy lifting in jeans," Faith asks. Steve nods at her in his genuine way that makes her want to hug him, and she backs into her room to quickly strip out of her shirt and jeans to put on a tank top and some leggings.

She ties her hair up into a knot and tries not to think about what she looks like too carefully as she checks over her appearance in the mirror. She heads back out in the living room to see Steve has already cleared a ton of the pile.

"Wow, you work fast," Faith says as she walks up next to him. Steve stands and looks at her, doing a double take. He's staring at her when she turns to look at him, and he quickly looks away, ears heating to a rosy pink. She decides to lock that away for later, and continues on.

"Okay, so I guess the big things to move are the couch and the other furniture. Everything else is mostly things like linens, which I can do by myself," Faith says, looking at all the boxes.

"I can help with that, too, if you'd like. I used to help Bucky's mom clean apartments back in the day," Steve says.

"Sure, if you want," Faith says, deciding not to push Steve on the piece of information he brought up. Steve seemed grateful for it as he helped her push the L shaped, charcoal couch towards the wall, so that the back was facing the door and the front was directed to the wall where there was a television mounted on it. They moved the rest of her furniture into place fairly quickly, and then Steve helped her put covers on the ottoman seats by the dining table, which were a similar shade of gray to the color she bought for the walls in her room. Once that was done, he helped her figure out which pillows should go where.

"You sure bought a lot of pillows," Steve says, laughing as he opens up a box and finds more pillows. Faith turns to him, holding a purple pillow and a white one. She smiles and shrugs, placing both pillows onto the ottomans.

"I like being comfortable, and if I can afford it I try to be as comfortable as I can," She says. Steve smiles and her and drops another purple pillow onto the ottoman.

* * *

Steve stands there and takes her in, because Faith is a new kind of woman, someone Steve hasn't really encountered. She doesn't make her face up or fuss with her hair or treat him any different than she does anyone else, and she makes Steve feel so normal it makes his chest hurt a little bit.

Faith is so beautiful and it's like she doesn't even notice. Her skin is even and her eyes are a warm shade of brown, and it reminds Steve of a day in the sun. She's dancing around in those legging that Steve keeps trying to ignore, but can't, because Steve is human and is desperately staring at the kitchen sink instead of her.

She's bobbing her head to some tune that only she can hear, because the only noise in the apartment is the television, which she turned on because she declared that utter silence is the worst. She's standing at the stove, stirring the sauce and noodles at the same time, while Steve is to watch the timer, because he is on 'Garlic Bread duty.'

Faits pulls a noodle out of the pot and drops it into her mouth, declaring it done and turning off the stove. Steve checks the bread and decides it's toasted enough to be done as well. They each make their own plate and sit at the table. Steve is right beside her, both of them lounging comfortably on the ottomans, and they eat in silence for a few minutes, before Faith looks up at him.

"What do you think about being my test subject," Faith asks, smiling at him in that way that could get him to do anything. It's the same smile that got him offering to help her move in. It's alarming how fast his fascination with her is blooming into a crush, and Steve knows he needs to get control of himself. While it's technically been seventy years since Peggy, it only feels like a few months for Steve, and granted, while they didn't even have a relationship, but it's been a lot to digest the fact that he lost an entire lifetime of what could have been his happily ever after.

"Test subject for…" Steve prompts, smiling at the way she eats her spaghetti. She twirls it around on her fork and uses a spoon at the end of her for to keep any noodles from falling off her fork.

"Well, Darcy and I want to start up an Instagram page for the team, and I was hoping that I could take a picture of you for the first image," Faith says.

"Sure, I don't mind that," Steve says. "What do you plan to caption it?" He asks, giving a cheeky smile as Faith takes her phone out of her pocket and snaps a picture of Steve with his fork in the air, noodles clinging to the fork.

"Probably something about how a Brooklyn boy is surprisingly good in the kitchen," She says with a smirk, and Steve feels his stomach jump in affection, because this girl is really something else.


	8. Chapter 8

The Instagram idea proves to be a good one, because the entire team is on board, but it's an idea that will take a lot of time to build up. Darcy made the account and got it verified that morning, and they were already gaining followers steadily, even though they haven't posted a picture. Darcy and Faith decide to have a sleepover to discuss how they can best show the team, and are currently sitting on Faith's couch, trying to find a good way to get their foot in the ground.

"It's so difficult when I have to go through the internet every day and see what people are saying about the team, because it's all so negative. I know people out there support them, but right now that minority is pissing me the fuck off because they're keeping quiet. The people that hate them are loud and angry and want some justice that no one can give them," Darcy says, serious in a way so uncharacteristic that Faith wants to reach out and hug Darcy, get her to smile and be more Darcy.

"Well, how are we going to show each team member? We want to get them at their best angles. So maybe we get Tony in his workshop, and Clint when he's trying to cook, for example," Faith says, using her sketchbook to keep a tab of how to show the Avengers off in their best light.

"So, we should probably keep the account to posting two pictures a week, and we can't post it without the approval of both of us, so that should work out pretty well," Darcy says, reiterating what they both agreed on earlier that week. Faith nods and sets down her pen.

"I thought that we should try out a test picture. I took one of Steve earlier, and was wondering if we should post it tonight," Faith says, digging through her phone to show Darcy the photo.

"That's adorable! Steve is such a babe. What should we caption it?" Darcy asks.

"I was thinking something about how Brooklyn boys can actually cook," Faith says with a giggle, because Steve's face when she had told him that will always be priceless.

"That's good, let me play with the picture?" Darcy asks, grabbing Faith's phone. She types for a minute, then stares at it for another minute, then hands it back to Faith.

It's the picture of Steve with a filter that makes him look softer, and the caption reads ' _Brooklyn boys can cook. Who knew?'_ which makes Faith break out into a smile.

"I like it, want me to post it?" Faith asks. Darcy gives her a thumbs up. Faith posts it and puts her phone down. They both agreed to leave it be for a day without checking it to see how people take to the account and the picture.

"Now all we can do is wait and watch Liam Neeson," Darcy sighs, like it's such a great burden to bear that they have to watch Taken and eat their weight in unhealthy food.

* * *

Nat is scary.

Faith had no idea she could take down Steve with her thighs. It's a crazy sight to watch, but Steve is back up in a second, gripping her by the knees to knock her off balance and pin her down with a leg. She grips his elbow until he cries out and lets go of her, and she's pinning him to the ground with one leg. Steve kicks a leg out to jump up, forcing her off of him, and they're back to sparring. Faith shakes her head, lifting her phone to take a video of them sparring for a few seconds, and then pans her phone over to Clint, who is sitting on the post in the corner of the ring closest to Faith, eating popcorn out of a bag.

"Having fun, Clint?" She asks.

Clint turns to look at the camera, smiling and showing all the popcorn in his mouth. "Oh yeah," He says, and it's made even funnier because you can still see Steve and Nat sparring in the edge of the screen.

Faith ends the video and sends it to Darcy, who replies back almost immediately with a _POST IT!_

Posting it under the caption # _sparringsaturdays_ , she pockets her phone and watches the rest of the training standing next to Clint, eating his popcorn every once and awhile.

* * *

The instagram is a hit. There's still negative comments, as expected, but the positive response is so overwhelming they organize a team meeting where all Faith and Darcy do it read positive comments.

"Jake from Oklahoma had very nice things to say about Nat's legs, along with literally everyone else. So, I guess congratulations on your thighs, Nat," Faith says, winking at Nat as Steve turns a bright red.

"Amen," Tony says from the corner of the room, high fiving with Clint.

Nat slaps them both for that, but Faith can't help but laugh as Clint whispers "Worth it."

* * *

A/N: And this marks the end of what I have already written. This story is more than halfway done, which is good news :) It was never intended to have a long plot arc or any very serious topics, just fluff. Comments are always appreciated.

Updates will slow to once a week because I am now working.


	9. Chapter 9

Faith's Shield issued cell phone doesn't have many numbers in it. It has a lot of names she doesn't recognize, and the entire team's numbers. Nat and Clint are out on some sort of mission, and they fought in French the entire time they were walking out of the building. That was enough to ward Faith off from asking them where they were headed. She knows Darcy is off on a date, and really doesn't want to interrupt that.

Faith debates long and hard before texting Steve, because she doesn't want to bother him, but she also wants to see him (and being completely honest, even if Nat and Darcy were here, she'd still most likely want to text Steve).

She's staring at her bedroom walls, which are still a blank white. They're taunting her, laughing at her for waiting so long to set up her bedroom. In the few days she's slept on her couch or at Darcy's, which just makes her feel anxious and sort of guilty for not getting her life put together sooner.

She decides, in the end, to not text Steve. He's always busy, and he trains the entire team every single week, some of them multiple times a week because they all just genuinely enjoy beating the shit out of each other.

An hour later, however (after she's successfully moved all her furniture into the hallway), she's regretting ever accepting this stupid job.

"Painting should not be a part of my job description. I'm too short for this," She mutters, jumping to reach the extra high parts of the wall and failing miserably. She lifts on her toes and slaps the brush against the wall pathetically, dripping paint onto her forehead in the process. She huffs and wipes it off with her arm, but she has a feeling the only thing she did was smear it around.

"Jarvis!" Faith says suddenly, another bout of frustration overcoming her like in a wave.

"Yes, Miss Owens?"

"Stark should invent me a robot that paints my walls for me. This is awful!"

"I will inform him right away, Miss Owens. Would you like me to hire a group of painters?" Jarvis asks, and if he was a person Faith would be death glaring him for the snark.

"No, Jarvis. I am an art major. If I can't do this then I should just return the degree."

"Very well, Miss Owens." There's that snark again.

Her attempt at painting sort of devolves from there. It only takes her two minutes before she gets frustrated and begins slapping the tops of the walls with the paintbrush (because she didn't learn her lesson earlier), angrily muttering to herself as she does.

"Why did I even take this stupid job? It's like I live with a house full of athletic circus performers. I swear to god if I find Clint hanging on a chandelier one more time, I'm going to move into the wilderness and grow old and invent my own language."

"I think you're overreacting," A voice says from behind her.

Faith screams and turns around, flinging her brush at the intruder. It soars through the air and hits Steve directly on the chest, leaving a large gray stain, before falling to the plastic wrap covering the floor.

"Oh my gosh, Steve, I am so sorry," Faith says, and she'd like nothing more than for the earth to swallow her up and let her die.

Steve looks down at the blob of paint on his chest for a moment, before looking up at Faith. She must look ridiculous, in the same flannel she uses to work in the dark room and old shorts. She knows she's got gray paint everywhere, on her face and arms and legs, and she's got all her hair pulled back in the shittiest excuse for a braid.

Steve blinks and looks at the gray spot on his chest, before he starts laughing. Faith feels herself turning bright red, because she literally just threw a paint brush at an Avenger. Is that punishable by jail time? Is Fury going to fire her? If he does, does that mean she doesn't have to paint this damn wall?

"Jarvis said you might need some help," Steve says, picking the brush off of the plastic on the floor.

"Did he now?" Faith asks, glaring at the ceiling in irritation, and then mouthing a 'thank you' to it, because Jarvis is really, really good at reading her mind.

"Yeah, and you know, I figured I was just going to watch the Discovery channel and maybe hit the gym, but this sounded like a much more pressing issue," He says, moving to stand next to her. He looks at the wall, which is only three fourths painted, and then looks at her.

"You're what, 5'2"? I'll help you paint the tops of the walls," He says, looking down at her. Being under his scrutiny is sort of like letting him read an autobiography about her. She can feel herself steadily turning the same red that belongs on the American Flag, and of course all she can think of are patriotic metaphors when Steve is around. They're almost too easy.

"5'4", thank you very much," Faith mutters, picking another brush out of the pan with paint. Steve snorts a laugh and takes off his shoes, tossing them into the hallway.

Faith has a brief mental image of Steve just taking off the rest of his clothes along with his shoes and then mentally berates herself for the depraved thoughts that go on in her mind. When she is sure she is a deep, patriotic (really Faith?) red, she slaps her brush back on the wall and paints a spot that already has paint on it.

"Where do you want me?" Steve asks, and Faith is so startled by that question that she whips towards him, flinging paint all over his white shirt (which to be fair, is already ruined, but still). Steve looks down at his shirt and then back at her, and at this point Faith is sure the color of her face must be an entirely new shade of red.

"Where- where do I want you?" She stutters out.

"To paint," He clarifies, but his ears are turning a bright red, and Faith is so glad she's not the only one mortified by this entire experience.

"Oh, well you could maybe just…" She trails off, and without her consent, her hand is reaching up to paint a stripe of gray across Steve's cheek. He looks at her the whole time, his eyebrows inching towards his hairline. She stops when her brush hits his nose and brings it down, feeling equal parts giddy and horrified.

There's something about the idea of painting on a national icon that makes Faith happier than it strictly should.

"That is true, I could do that," Steve says. There's a smile dragging the corner of his mouth up, and it makes Faith feel like she's barely touching the ground.

"You could," Faith agrees.

"However, there is also the option of…" He says, and then runs his bush right over the top of her head. Faith stands there a moment, blinking up at him, before bursting out laughing.

"Hey!" she says, but she's laughing and so is Steve.

"Don't start something you can't finish, sweetheart."

"If you insist," She says, and then she's smacking her hand into the bucket of paint and flinging it at Steve, who was clearly not prepared for it, because he shrieks (which he denies later but Faith knows he totally did) and ducks for cover.

"That's not fair, I wasn't ready!" Steve laughing, using his arms to cover his head.

"And you think I was?"

Steve says nothing, but he's somehow got a bucket of paint beside him and he's flinging a handful of it at her before she realizes it. Laughing, she immediately dunks her hand back in her bucket to lob some at him.

It all spirals downhill from there, pretty much.

* * *

Darcy gets home early from her date, toeing her heels off as soon as she gets into her apartment. She's exhausted. She got all dressed up and didn't even got laid. Next time she's going to talk about her pet Iguana for an entire hour and see how Chris likes it then.

"Jarvis, what is Faith doing?" Darcy asks as she pulls a bottle of wine out of the fridge. She'd like to be more drunk and less clothed in about ten seconds, but only one of these can actually be accomplished with minimal effort.

"I believe Miss Lewis is throwing paint at Captain Rogers," Jarvis says.

Darcy chokes on her wine (which is so fucking painful, _oh my god_ ).

"I have to see this," Darcy mutters, grabbing her phone and running down the hall to Faith room. The door is unlocked (as usual), and so she takes the liberty of letting herself in (also as per usual).

There's laughing coming from Faith's bedroom, and when Darcy walks into the doorway she's in pure shock at the sight. Faith and Steve are completely covered in paint, both of them looking more gray than their actual skin tones. They're screaming and laughing as they hurl paint at each other. Darcy takes out her phone and gets the cutest video of them.

She sneaks out before they notice her, because she refuses to ruin that adorable ball of sap and cuteness and sexual tension.

Looking at the video later that night, Darcy feels sneaky and also vaguely like a matchmaker as she puts the video on the Instagram page.

The caption reads _Painting the patriotic way! #cute_

Faith is going to kill her, but Darcy finds that she doesn't really mind. It's all in the name of love, after all.

* * *

Next update out in less than a week. Your feedback is always appreciated! :)


	10. Chapter 10

"Darcy!" Faith yells the next morning. She's banging on Darcy's front door, which is inconveniently locked. She keeps slamming her fist on the door as she scrolls through the team's Instagram page. They've got about ten photos up now, mostly pictures from team gatherings, but a few individual shots. There's a video of Tony arguing with Dum-E that Faith's personal favorite. There's one of Clint hanging from the chandelier in the common area, and one of Bruce reading on the couch, curled up in a fluffy blanket.

However, she's currently upset at the video that appeared overnight has almost 250,000 likes and is by far their most popular video. It surpasses their old top post by around 100,000 likes, and Darcy posted it _without her agreement_.

"Darcy isn't here right now, please come back after you're done yelling," Darcy shouts through the door. Faith rolls her eyes and kicks the wood, enjoying the swear she gets out of Darcy.

"Darcy! I am going to kill you! No one will find the body! They'll do a 60 Minutes segment on you!" Faith screams, knocking rapidly on the door. It's more for show now, than anything, to be honest.

Faith can even admit that the video is adorable. It's ten seconds of her and Steve just flinging paint at each other, laughing and messing around. She gets that Darcy did it as a surprise, but it's rather irritating that she wasn't consulted before it was posted, because that was their agreement, and so far they've both been good about sticking to it. She isn't actually angry at Darcy, but she's upset at Darcy for going behind her back and maybe a little hurt about it.

"Go away, you're a monster!" Darcy shouts back.

"You're the monster! We had a deal, Lewis!" Faith says, pointing a finger at the door angrily, even though she knows Darcy can't see it.

"Um, is this a bad time?" A timid voice comes from down the hall. Bruce is standing there, blanket wrapped around him and wearing purple pajama pants.

"No, I'm sorry Bruce. Darcy did something behind my back and I'm just trying to scare her into obedience," Faith says, brushing her hair out of her face. Bruce nods and turns back to go to his room, and Faith figures she's caused enough of a scene that she can let Darcy feel bad for a few hours and go get some breakfast.

* * *

The video trends all morning. It's picked up by Entertainment Tonight, who speculates as to whom Faith is. She's so incredibly glad that she signed a confidentiality contract with S.H.I.E.L.D. and that she's not very recognizable in the video.

The Instagram account is blowing up, people commenting left and right, taking guesses as to who Faith actually is, and why she's throwing paint at a national icon. There are one out of every thousand people that are even kind of right about the situation, so Faith isn't very concerned.

The only time she's actually, truly angry at Darcy for posting the video is when the team has its weekly overview, everyone discussing ways to make schedules and practices more efficient. Darcy and Faith usually give a quick recap of what the Instagram page has looked like this week, and then let Tony and Steve go back to bickering over whether cool downs for workouts should be five minutes or ten.

This time, however, they end up taking such an absurdly long time to get through their overview. Faith can feel her eye twitching. When Darcy mentions the video she posted, Faith had held on to blind hope that the team wouldn't care about seeing the video.

She was mistaken.

"That is," Tony declares as soon as the video ends, "disgustingly adorable. It's almost more adorable than I am, which is unacceptable," Tony says, but he's got this shit eating grin on his face. It matches Darcy and Clint's grins. The three of them are like a demented, twisted version of the Three Stooges and it makes chills run up Faith's spine.

"I don't understand," Steve said, hands folded together as he leans forward over the table. His cheeks are a little pink but his eyes are serious. "Why did this get posted?" Steve, the beautiful, shiny, wonderful soul that he is can always be counted on to ask the million dollar question.

Eyes fly to Darcy. It's sort of comforting that everyone knows on blind intuition that Faith wouldn't post that on the account. It's sort of an inaccurate reflection on Faith's character, but she's not above using it shamelessly to her advantage.

"Oh," Steve says quietly. His blush spreads to his ears and Faith can't help but want to give him a hug it's so adorable. (That, or use his ears as handles, she's not sure which.)

"Moving on," Faith says, eager to interrupt the silence. "When I first came here," Faith hears a vague whisper of _that's what she said_ from Tony and Clint's direction and maturely decides to ignore it. "I had an idea that Darcy liked a lot. We decided to let you guys do video diaries, and at the end of the month we'd help you edit them and let you put them up on YouTube. It would be a great way for the public to get to know you guys when you're not punching evil in the stomach." Clint makes a fist and bumps it with Nat's, so coordinated Faith can't help but wonder if they practice it on their down time.

"I love it," Tony says, banging his fist on the table.

Darcy rolls her eyes, forging ahead. "We've got you guys cameras, and we're pretty sure they're Thor proof, so they shouldn't break if you drop them or they get wet they should be okay. We've got them for all of you, even though Thor is in Asgard. We want you to record anything you think the public would find interesting about you, and maybe just things you do on your down time. _Nothing inappropriate,_ " Darcy finishes, leveling a glare at Tony so fierce it makes shivers run up Faith's spine. Tony's hand go up in surrender, but he's still wearing that ridiculous grin.

"Can we watch the video again?" Clint asks, raising his hand. Tony and Nat bob their heads in agreement. Little shits.

Faith flushes a deep red and takes the empty seat to Steve's right. His cheeks are still pink, but when she looks at him he winks at her, bumping his shoulder into hers, and she gets the feeling he's more okay with the video than he initially let on. It makes Faith smile and bump back into his shoulder. They miss Darcy's entire lecture about what is considered inappropriate to video tape, but the glare she gives Steve when she shoves a camera into his hands sums it up fairly well.

* * *

Hey guys! Surprise chapter update in the middle of the hiatus this thing is on, because I'm stuck babysitting and if I have to watch The Parent Trap one more time I will cry. I hope you guys liked the chapter! Keep your reviews coming they always make my day :)


	11. Chapter 11

It's a lazy Saturday morning and for once, everything is calm. This may have something to do with Tony and Clint being away. Tony is away with Pepper in Venice for some form of an anniversary, and Clint would only say that he was going to be neck deep in sunblock as he walked out the door three days ago.

Faith is seated at the bar in the kitchen area, plotting out events on a very confusing diagram Darcy made of the Avengers events for the next year on a complicated tablet Tony had given her the other day. She's looking at the next week, frowning at the title of one event.

 _Humanitarian Habitat Preservation Annual Gala_

That sounds like lots of work on Faith and Darcy's part, and this is literally the first time Faith has ever heard of it.

"Jarvis?" Faith calls out to the empty room.

"Yes, Miss Owens," Jarvis says.

"Did Darcy add in this H. H. P. event?" Faith asks. It's going to be very frustrating if Darcy added an event this large and just decided to not tell Faith, because this would be the second thing Darcy did behind her back and that's not alright. They're partners, and being partners means telling each other what's going on and if there are additions or changes to their schedule. She's going to need to let Tony (or more accurately, Pepper) know, and see if Fury can tell Faith if Clint will be back in time, and make sure everyone has appropriate clothing, and arrange car services and check the guest list for security threats and concerns.

"I believe this event has been in the calendar for some time, Miss Owens," Jarvis says, and Faith has to push the tablet away from her in frustration.

Darcy and Faith are going to need to have a discussion, because this isn't professional and while they may be friends they aren't communicating well as colleagues.

Faith is busy rubbing her forehead against the cool marble of the bar when someone says her name. She knows even before she lifts her head that it's Steve, and she's both happy to see him and irritated about it. She isn't in the best mood and she doesn't want to do something rash like snap at him out of frustration.

"Hi," Faith says, pulling her messy waves away from her neck and into a loose bun. She instantly feels a little better now that she isn't being slowly suffocated by her hair.

"Is everything okay?" Steve asks, coming up to stand on the other side of the bar, facing her.

"Not totally. I'm just very frustrated at the moment," Faith says.

Steve does an adorable little pout that just wrecks Faith's heart for a second.

"Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes that helps sort things out," Steve says, moving around the bar to sit next to her. He's wearing a white button up and jeans and he looks so comfortable Faith wants to swoon.

"I guess," Faith shrugs. "I'm just kind of irritated at Darcy. I just found out that there's an event that's for the team that's pretty important and is next week, and we haven't even started all the things we'll need to for it, which is just going to make more work for us later on, and that upsets me. I wish she would have told me about this event earlier so I wasn't so blindsided by it, because that really frustrates me."

"Wow, that is frustrating. If it helps that I mention this, Jarvis may be able to help with some of the things you need to get done, he's really good at that stuff," Steve said, gesturing to the air as if to signify Jarvis.

"That does help, a little, but the problem is kind of more than just this event, I guess the event is just sort of what's triggering the stress," Faith says. Steve nods, like he personally understand that.

"I get that, I used to feel like that when Bucky would ambush me with surprise double dates. One time I was in the shower and he just opened the door and told me my date was waiting on me," Steve says, but he's smiling, like the memory is fond instead of upsetting. She guesses that's because they're best friends, or, were best friends. She knows she's going to forgive Darcy for this, because it's not exactly worth starting a full blown fight over, but it is worth confronting.

"That is kind of intense," Faith laughs, and Steve laughs too, nodding his head.

"It was. But what's this bigger picture?"

"Well, this is just the second time I've been uninformed about something. The video was the first time, which she posted behind my back. It wasn't anything bad and it was received really well, but I didn't plan on being anywhere on the Instagram account, and I had no say in the matter. I just don't want this to become a pattern where she does things and I don't know about them, because we need to be on the same page in order to help you guys the best. That's the entire reason I'm here," Faith says.

Steve nods, staying silent for a little bit.

"It seems like you've already worked it out pretty well, so I don't know what to say to help the situation, but I'm always here if you need me. Can I help with the whole Gala thing?" He asks, which is just so endearing. There's no right thing to say, but Steve gets about as close as possible, and Faith just wants to kiss him so bad right now.

"Sure, I guess the biggest issue that needs to be addressed is the guest list. I'm sure that SHIELD is going to be checking for security threats, but I need to check that there aren't any guests that don't get along with someone from the team," Faith says, trying to be delicate about who she's talking about.

"You can just say Tony," Steve laughs.

"I was trying to be nice, he gave me an apartment," Faith says, but she's laughing too.

"That's fair, that's fair," Steve says, nodding. He gives her a speculative look as Faith unlocks the tablet, and Faith doesn't know what that's about but she doesn't mind it at all.

* * *

That night, most of the team still hasn't shown themselves throughout the day. Nat came by Faith's place for lunch, which was great, because Faith has been feeling like they were drifting. She talked to Nat about how she was feeling and Nat gave her very helpful and direct advice.

"Darcy is pretty absent minded and she can get caught up in things pretty quickly. The faster you talk to her the faster this will all be done, she's not going to be upset at you for feeling this way." Faith shouldn't be surprised Nat gives perfect advice, but she is anyways.

She spends the rest of the day making a list of things that she's going to need to do before Friday night. It's not actually as much as she thought, and she gets two or three of them done that afternoon, which feels pretty good.

High on a productive streak she heads into her darkroom to process a roll of film she's had for about a year. She's not totally sure about what's on the roll but she finds that she doesn't really mind what the pictures turn out like. The whole process of rolling the film onto the reel and putting it through the processing motions is extremely relaxing.

She's gotten pretty out of touch with her photography lately. She decides that she's going to make more of an effort to include it in her new job. Maybe she'll do a photo series about the Avengers or something.

An hour later she's got her film hanging to dry, a load of laundry started, and is digging through Netflix when there's a knock at the door.

When she opens it, she's sort of surprised to find Steve. She had texted Darcy, asking her to drop by some time tonight, so that's who she was expecting. Faith was wearing sweatpants and an old shirt, which wasn't exactly a flattering or stylish outfit.

"Hey, Steve. What's up?" Faith asks, stepping aside to let him in. He's changed from the button up to a plain blue shirt, and it looks incredibly soft. There's an urge to run her hands up his chest and Faith has to internally chastise herself.

"I actually wanted to ask you something," Steve said, and looked around the room. His eyes darted everywhere, taking her living room in. It's a weird thing to do considering the fact that he helped her put the room together and whatnot.

"Sure, what can I do for you?" She asks, closing the door and gesturing for him to take a seat on the couch with her.

Steve turns a shade of red but sits down on the couch. She sits a foot away from him, sitting on her foot and facing towards him.

"I…" He trails off, and then shakes his head, like he's trying to work up to something.

"You…" Faith prompts.

"I'd really like to take you out on a date," Steve says, eyes flashing between his hands and Faith's eyes, like he wants to hear her answer but also doesn't.

It's an absolutely a shock, but Faith's got the biggest smile on her face. She feels so happy all of a sudden.

"Steve, I would absolutely love that," She says, smiling. He looks at her and smiles back, and it's literally adorable.

"Can I cook you dinner?" He asks, motioning behind him, and Faith realized he means _right now_.

She shakes her head, watching his shoulders deflate slightly. She realizes how that must look, and hurries to clarify why she said no.

"I can't tonight, but tomorrow I would love that. I'm waiting for Darcy to come by so that we can talk, and I want to get it over with as soon as possible. However, if you want to hang out and watch some Disney until she gets here, that would be a lot of fun," Faith says.

Steve smiles, relieved looking, and nods, "I understand, no worries. What are we watching, then?" He asks, picking the remote up and pulling up the categories option. His arm is resting on the back arm of the couch and on an impulse, Faith scoots over to lean up against him. He looks at her and smiles, and Faith smiles back, unable to keep herself from it.

* * *

Hello everyone! So I have news for you! (I missed you guys!)

If anyone was wondering why this update took a little while, I had the absolute worst trip possible, and I spent about a week mentally recovering from that. I also just got on some new anxiety medicine which I'm hoping is going to help long term without as many side effects, but it hasn't kicked in yet so my anxiety is sort of all over the place, which has made it really hard to do much of anything.

Butttt! I move in to my new apartment on the 24th, and since I know myself and I know I can't publish on any sort of schedule during my semester, I'm going to try to get this fic done by the end of the month! Yaay! We're actually pretty close to the end, maybe two or thre chapters to go!

I won't have my computer for a few days sporadically throughout the month as my screen is cracked and I'm trying to get that fixed before I move, so, fingers crossed it doesn't take too long.

Thank you for all the follows and favorites, I love you all!


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